Connection · parenting

Hedging our bets on an unknown future

Future tripping is not really a gamble but the stakes are our very lives.

The future lives in the unknown and sometimes we get that dopamine hit like the lever of a slot machine.  Will today be my lucky day?  Will I go pro or go home?  So we go outward, discarding the mundane and instead wishing the day away to a future point.

We end up not appreciating how good we have today:  Our lungs to breathe.  Our hearts to beat and pump.  Life force coursing through our veins.  Our loved ones here today to share a meal or a hug.  To think it will be better or I will feel complete or more organized/fit/healthy/alive in the future makes us miss the target.  The point is that today is all we have.

Dreams and goals are important and we shouldn’t dismiss them and not have them.  Just don’t let them crowd our vision of today.  What small steps can I take today?  What future do I envision?  Why does it hold power and energy or attention over right now?  What can I do this very moment to bring that vision closer to my reality?  Ask questions.  Take stock.  Be still and listen to the guidance.

Is wishing away the potty training stage and loads of laundry that goes with it worth not being present to see her smile?  Her full sentences form, her blooming creative play, her, “Momma, play with me?”  This is where I am and the future is uncertain.  Someday it will go by all too fast and be a distant memory.  Today I’m in her life.  We share the same roof and space.

I can wish the clutter and loud chaos away or I can see the bigger picture.   We have the means to acquire all these awesome toys that allow us stretch our imaginations and connect with each other.  I can witness how she’s finally grappling with her own body cues to use the bathroom on her own.  And as in all learning, there are missteps and accidents happen.  And I don’t want to miss it for a moment.

Hedging our bets on an unknown future robs us of what is happening in the here and now.  I will breathe and I will play, if only for today, because that’s where I live.

Connection · shared stories

We all carry a little trauma

We all walk around with a little trauma in our back pocket.  Sometimes we forget it’s there. Sometimes, unbeknownst to us, we pull it up and it’s in our face without any warning.  How we experienced the trauma is individual and unique:  what happened, how we dealt with it or didn’t deal with it, our own personal experience of the trauma.  We were innocent one moment and then the event rocked us to the core and that is something we all share.

We’d like to pretend it never happened to us.  Why talk about such negative things that don’t affect us now?  The event shaped us whether we’d like to admit it.  We can choose to acknowledge this trauma that we’ve been carrying around for far too long.  Perhaps we’ve grown tired and exhausted from the heaviness of that burden.  And it has metaphorically created a hole and fell out of our pocket.  However it happens, the opportunity lies before us.

Do we quickly scoop it up and bury it once again?  Do we distract ourselves and hide it, ignore it or stuff it?  Or can we just for a moment accept our common humanity that trauma unfortunately happens.  It’s a part of the journey of life.  But it doesn’t have to control us any longer.  It happened, for sure.  It sucks.  Who wants to rehash unpleasantries?

But once we acknowledge our common human experience, our trauma, something shifts.  Our burden lightens.  We see that we are not alone in our suffering.  It is okay.  We are not justifying what happened, but right now in this moment can we feel safe?  Can we take a breath?  Can we sit with this feeling for just a few moments?

Here’s what I would like you to do right now.  Don’t engage in a dialogue with the trauma.  Just be the listener.  Write if it helps you to sort out your thoughts on paper.  Treat yourself gingerly, with the softness and tenderness as you would a small infant.  You were innocent when it happened through no fault.  Can you see what “trauma” is showing you?  Is there a message?  A nugget of wisdom that you can explore?

When you’ve listened to what has to be said, put your hands on your heart and just breathe for a minute.  Counting breaths helps.  I like to count to 10.  One, inhale; one, exhale.  Two, inhale; two, exhale, etc.  I promise you any fear, anger, or other strong emotion you feel will dissipate if for just a moment you can let it out.  It’s been bottled up for too long.

Connection

Shadow v. The Light

The shadow is my constant companion.  We are connected at the “sole.”  We are together on this journey called life.  My shadow warps and changes shape in response to the light.  She may grow as long as a tree or seem to disappear beneath my feet.  But nonetheless we are tethered whether I like it or not.

We all have a shadow side. So why do we collectively try to snuff out the darker parts of ourselves?  My shadow is forever patient and steady.  I may ignore her and go about my day or pretend she’s not there and distract myself from her message.  She is ready even when I am not.

What is the light?  It’s who I project myself to be.  It’s my high points, my bright genius side.  I can wrap the light around me like a blanket or hold it close like a soothing cup of tea.  I am held in its warm embrace.

But sometimes the light is too much.  Blinding even and I fear I will lose my footing on the path.  My shadow will always guide me back, shield my eyes, and give me that necessary reprieve to regroup.  The shadow is my retreat from the spotlight.

We need both the light and the shadow.  We can’t have a shadow side without a lighter one.  And we need not fear one and idealize the other.  They can both peacefully coexist with equanimity.  And we can collectively accept both sides of the same coin, us.

Connection

Whose plan is it anyway?

Life has a way of not going according to plan.  Whose plan is it anyway?  “Oh, those silly humans still think they can control their lives and circumstances.”

Of course, that doesn’t mean we should just lay back and let life happen to us and around us passively.  We need to take action and be the director of our own life’s work.  Choose what skills, experiences and relationships we want to pursue with our time, energy and money.  And let go of what doesn’t fit or work any longer.  Let go of our silly pride, clinging to unreal outcomes, lost dreams or wearing our failures like a badge of honor.  Stuck and unwilling to see what else is around the corner.  It is a symbiotic relationship with our nature and nature itself.

We suffer less when we’re not surprised when things go awry because that is what it means to be alive.  It can be pleasant, heartbreaking, triumphant or a huge loss.

What do we do next?  Pick up the fragments left behind, be our own excavator to learn from the experience, and continue down this journey that belongs to no one but ourselves.

Connection · shared stories

I am a contradiction

Sharing my story heals myself and others, and at the same time I am not my story.  Yes, my story is my past and has shaped who I am.  I am grateful for my past.  It has brought me to here.  Now.  This moment.  Yet my story doesn’t define or shape this very moment that may someday become “my story.”

How can that be?  I’ve learned from my story.  I’m able to fit life’s experiences into a nicely labeled box or manila folder to be tucked away into my memory.  Those lessons have been integrated and shape my view of myself and the world.

I am more than my story: than my past, than my teenage angst, than my mistakes, worries, future trips, to-do list, career, roles, and lifestyle choices.  Each part is not a stand-alone entity because for this moment it’s on the front burner of my psyche.

However, as with all contradictions, each integral part is a part of me, responsible for who I am, who I was, who I will be.

Connection

Fixed v. Growth Mindset

It depends on how much I “buckle down” and get done.  If I just work a little harder, strive a little more, I will be X:  Happier, successful, loved, fulfilled, accomplished, complete, evolved to be my best, smartest, healthiest, perfect-as-I-am self.  But that’s a cop-out.  I will never fully “arrive” as my life is here for the long haul.  My health, my interests, my friends, work, creative focus and otherwise will wax and wane, as it should in this place called life.

What happens when we get to the end of the road and arrive?  Is that the end of my story?  Do I stop learning, evolving and growing?  Do I want to?

There is no ultimate destination because that would mean the end of the line, the old couple on the porch sipping lemonade as the days quickly pass, waiting for what?  Remembering the past and stuck in story?  Waiting for a peaceful end to a fulfilled life?

I’m not there yet.  I have a lot more to learn, to glean, to create, to love, to be, to serve, to clear way, to relax, to enjoy, to delight, to revel and linger.  It’s too much, too juicy, too soon to stop.

So that fixed narrative sets you up for failure because there is no “done.”

Just be. Just here with life’s lessons, trials and tribulations, joys, mistakes, regrets, loves, memories both cherished and wished to be forgotten, hopes, dreams, pleasures, etc.  My growth mindset says to keep being curious on what lights me up lately.  Keep writing, keep asking the questions, digging and laying the inner groundwork to see what’s in store next.

Connection · self-care

Labyrinth Walk

We start out as children and young adults learning and following the footsteps of those that came before us.  They made it possible for us to exist!  Now it’s my turn to create my own imprint and footprints for the next generation to follow; to trust my inner wisdom; to acknowledge with gratitude all the facets of life.  When I’m unsure or the path seems misguided and leading me off course, if I get still enough, the path gets illuminated before me and I can be the guidepost for those that will follow in my footsteps.

I spent the weekend on a mindfulness for mothers retreat at Copper Beech Institute in West Hartford, CT.  I had so many amazing insights and breakthroughs, which can only happen when we slow down and retreat.  I wrote a lot in my journal.  I took full advantage of all the yoga and meditation workshops.  I kept my iPhone in the drawer in my private room and I went within.  The group was led by Hunter Clarke-Fields, the mindful mama mentor.  You can listen to her podcast and take advantage of her free resources at:  https://www.mindfulmamamentor.com/

We were a small group of nine mamas.  I learned new tools and tips for my mindfulness journey.  Mindfulness and meditation are not an attempt to strive, self-improve, or add to my day as another to-do.  In this retreat I was reminded about my why.  Why do I meditate and do yoga most days?  It gives me freedom and a sense of relief, as simple and profound as that.

As the retreat was coming to a close, I still hadn’t visited the labyrinth.  So it was my own personal closing ceremony to integrate the group sharing and insights.  I was alone.  It had snowed the day before and I had to follow the footprints that led to the labyrinth.  The path in the labyrinth was gravel and not shoveled.  I saw footprints in all directions within it.  I was able to find the path and stay the course.  At one point because of the snow, I was unsure how to get to the center.  When I got still, I saw that no one had gone right and when I did, I was back on the path.  My gatha or mantra came to me in the center of the labyrinth:  “Peace with this, Peace within me.”  I am ready to be the guidepost for those that will follow my footsteps.

 

Connection

Is it just me?

Who knows?  We put so much energy and attention focused on the future:  planning, striving, endless to-do’s and tasks that we lose the entire weekend.  My word this year is “Linger.”  And even I need a reminder.  I get future-tripped up in the anticipation of an upcoming retreat, a potential job opportunity, or perfecting my dream vision that my energy gets sapped from the here and now.  How can I linger over this cup of coffee when I’m all prepared for an event that might not happen at all?

There is no refund or credit on that time and energy spent and now it all comes down to the wire.  Will I get it or not?  And how can I prevent my energy from being wasted again in the future?  Do I need a grounding mantra that will gently nudge myself before I get full-on lost in thought, planning, fuming, etc. on whatever it is?

And this happens when I get stuck on past events too.  I replay and rehash them.  I imagine scenarios with a different outcome and my correct and witty response.  I make excuses to myself to relieve the miserableness, horror or embarrassment of it all.

Is it just me?

Connection · shared stories

Our wild and unruly thoughts are not the whole story

We are all hurting. If there’s one thing we share in common, it’s that we all experience pain and/or suffering.

Our thoughts can hold us hostage and sabotage our present moment. For example, when I got my new job, my husband suggested, “Let’s spend some time celebrating!”  In an instant my mind shifted into forward thinking.  There’s childcare needs, a new wardrobe to purchase, and a general fear of the unknown.  That moment to celebrate was ever so brief.  Sweet but not fully experienced, not completely felt.  In hindsight, perhaps I should have taken a moment to savor the excitement and opportunity and let a feeling of gratitude set in.

It’s over too quickly and we can’t get it back. I had a similar experience when my 19-year old cat Max died.  My mom and I never followed through on our plan to memorialize him.  We were in a state of grief and I had to take care of my toddler.  We didn’t get the chance to properly mourn him.  As a result we suffered on our own and grieved alone.  Instead of holding each other, we kept it inside.  A few years have passed since then.  And I don’t know if we will ever be in that space again.

Our thoughts can run wild if we let them. They can rob us from the rich and healing experience of being fully present:  to how we are feeling or what is happening in this moment.  Now I try to pause when I notice my mind going rampant or rehashing the same story over and over.  I take a deep breath and think, “I’ve already spent enough time, space and energy on this.”  I soften and I take a moment to notice my surroundings.  “How is this story, forward or past thinking distracting me from the NOW?  Is it causing me undo stress?”  Of course, it is.

Then I ask the question, “How do I want to feel instead?”  Usually I want to feel relaxed, present and connected to my family.

And the final question, “What can I do to make that feeling a reality?”  Usually it’s taking a few box breaths or utilizing one of my self-care tools.  I’m a work in progress.  There are days when I forget my tools and I get lost in thought and distraction.  I lose my grounding and connection to myself and the present moment.  I’ve accepted the fact that I’m continuing to learn and re-learn what works for me, and I will always continue to do so.

Now it’s your turn. How do your thoughts affect you?  Are they distracting you from what’s going on right now?  Are they causing you undo stress?  If so, how do you want to feel instead?  And what can you do to make that feeling come true?

I send you peace.

 

 

Connection · self-care · shared stories

I’m tired of living in fear

We are all connected.  And the speed of information has advanced our society into a global community.  You want to learn about X?  What does Google say?  Information is literally at your fingertips if you happen to own a smartphone.  And knowledge is power.

Even though my family got rid of cable years ago, we still have access to the news from our phones and apps on our TV console. I love that we can choose what to watch when we want to.  But we do channel surf through YouTube and you can’t escape the collective fear that is ever present.  The recent tragic events and acts of violence have pulled at my heart.

I love working in Providence. It’s a city rich in history and I’m proud to be a native Rhode Islander.  It’s a beautiful city to walk around:  the Brown University campus, the financial and downtown districts, and historic Benefit Street.  But I’m tired of living in fear.  If a car comes racing by or a strange box truck is around, I tense up and anxiety takes control.  My leisurely walk is interrupted and I’m terrified for a moment, especially if I’m around city hall or a federal building.  It never used to be this way.  Fear never played such a prominent role.  I started working full-time a little over a year ago.  And I loved the city.  I drank in the architecture, the people on their way to work, students walking to class, and the waterfront.  It was a welcome sight.

But over these last few months, the anxiety has been building. Yesterday as I was walking to the parking garage, a box truck stopped right in the middle of the street and began to back up.  Normally this wouldn’t have been an issue.  There’s construction everywhere and the street was a one-way.  But the truck seemed to be backing up and keeping  in pace with me as I walked.  Cars behind the truck began to honk, and it seemed like the truck was going to back up regardless of traffic.  This odd behavior made my anxiety soar.  I started to run, and all I could hear was the incessant “beep, beep, beep” as it continued to reverse.  I had the worst panic attack.  I feared it was going to blow up right then and there next to the financial district.  I had visions of me getting into the garage on the fifth floor and being toppled over by the above floors during the explosion.  I couldn’t wait to get out of that garage.

Once I got behind the wheel and started to exit, I shouted, “I’m tired of being afraid! I’m tired of living in fear!  I’m tired of freaking out over a truck!  I just want to be able to walk in peace without feeling terrorized!”

I don’t have an answer during these crippling moments. I just try to deepen my breath.  I remind myself that meditation helps ground me and I should meditate more and journal more.  Events will happen that are beyond my control.  And one thing I can control is my breath.

How do you bring calm when you’re feeling anxious or overwhelmed?